


Hold My Hand

by wir_sind_die_Jager



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: A pinch of smut, Eremin - Freeform, Feels, Fluff, M/M, a dash of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 16:06:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wir_sind_die_Jager/pseuds/wir_sind_die_Jager
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From beginning to end, nine vignettes throughout the lives of Eren Jaeger and Armin Arlert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold My Hand

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fanfic for bertholdt-the-art-student for another Shingeki no Kyojin Secret Santa Swap. The inspiration behind than piece came to me after I pondered about the significance of Eren and Armin holding hands, how quietly and casually intimate of a gesture it is. I hope you enjoy!

**I – 836 spring**

With a picnic basket on one arm and balancing her son on the other, Carla Jaeger approached the home of the Arlert family and knocked. A tired but cheerful looking woman with a long sheet of straight blonde hair answered.

“Carla! What a lovely surprise. Come in.” She made room for her brunet friend to enter. As soon as she was in the cozy living area, Carla crouched down and set her child on his feet. He wobbled, grabbing onto her long skirt for balance.  
  
“How are you, dear?”  
  
“Exhausted, but indescribably happy,” the young woman replied, casting her smile over to the hand carved cradle that held an alert baby with wide, sky blue eyes and rosy round cheeks.   
“Look at him!” Carla cooed. “He’s gotten so big since the last I saw him!”

Mrs. Arlert scooped the baby up and gently set him on the warm rug. He made a few squealing noises and scooted his bottom excitedly.  
“Eren, come meet the baby. This is Armin.”

Eren bravely approached the six month old and waved enthusiastically near his face. “Hi, baby!”

The mothers shared a giggle before Carla turned to her basket.

“I brought you some pies, dear. Some chicken, one lamb and a lingonberry tart.”

“My pie!” Eren declared, but Carla merely shushed him.  
  
“You spoil me, Carla! Here, let’s bring them into the kitchen.”   
  
“Eren, sit next to Armin.” Carla waited until Eren followed her instructions before following Armin’s mother into the kitchen. Armin, having watched the older boy sit, scooted and turned and rolled until he too propped himself into a wobbly but passable sitting position. Slapping the pattern on the rug as if pleased with his new trick, Armin let off a few coos and giggles.   
Amused, Eren took the baby’s right hand into his own and gently held it.  
  
“Ahmin,” Eren said, trying to imitate the child’s name. “Hi, Ahmin.” He looked down at their hands and grinned crookedly. “My Ahmin.”

**II – 843 summer**

They were swimming in the river to rid themselves of the sweltering heat, humidity pressing on them like an oppressive blanket of perspiration. All of the other children of Shiganshina had the same idea; it took Eren and Armin a good hour to suss out the perfect spot away from their rambunctious peers.

“Do you think the ocean is as nice to swim in as the river?”  
  
“I’m not sure,” Armin thought, pondering on the question. “It’s a lot bigger, so we’d have our own part of it to swim in…we wouldn’t have to wade around for so long just to find our own area. But it’s made of salt, so if you swallow any, it might taste kind of gross.”

“But just think about how rich we’re going to be if we find the ocean first, Armin!” Eren cried, his beaming grey eyes matching perfectly with his ear to ear smile.

“If there’s that much salt, it may become depreciated.”

“What’s that mean?”  
  
“It would lose its value because there is so much of it.”  
  
“Not if we keep it to ourselves,” Eren pouted under his breath conspiratorially.  
  
“Eren, that’s wicked of you,” Armin chastised, splashing his best friend. “Sharing resources makes us a stronger society.”

“Hey!” Eren splashed Armin back, but the blonde boy was quicker as he dunked underwater, only to resurface directly on Eren’s left side, a mouthful of water squirted on target at Eren’s ear. “Damn it, Armin!”

Once his laughter subsided, Armin was roughly yanked against Eren’s sun-kissed skin as the other boy locked hands with his, thrashing to and fro in a mock wrestling match.  
  
“All right, then, smart guy,” Eren growled through his grin, “How ‘bout if we build a house near the ocean? Wouldn’t that be great, you and me living together? We’d never have to ask our parents permission to go over and we can stay up as late as we want. We can look down on the waves and have our own part of the ocean, all to ourselves and we’d only share it with whoever we want to.”

“I don’t think the ocean is small enough to ever  _belong_  to someone,” Armin chuckled. “But I think you’re forgetting about one, tiny detail, Eren…”  
  
“Titans?” Eren guessed with a scoff. “Nothing to it. We’ll just have to grow up, enlist, ace our training, join the Survey Corps and slay all of the titans. Hey! Maybe there are no titans by the ocean. Maybe they’re scared of the water. I doubt they swim.”  
  
“All right, Eren,” Armin conceded. “ _One day_ , when we’re all grown up, in the Survey Corps, and slay  _all_ of the titans…then we’ll build a little house by the ocean.”

**III – 846 autumn**

“I don’t remember autumn being so cold,” Armin observed from under the thin cotton blanket. The bedrolls weren’t much to speak of, either, as they rested on the hard, cold stone floor of the old food storage house in Wall Rose.   
  
“Here, Armin,” Eren whispered as he raised to his elbows. “Come switch places with me; you sleep in between me and Mikasa; we’ll keep you warm.”  
  
“Are you s-s-sure?” Armin asked, his teeth chattering.  
“Don’t be silly; of course.” Eren crawled over Armin and scooted the smaller boy closer to Mikasa, who was sound asleep. Armin sighed as he inched his way down in between them, facing Eren under the blankets they shared.   
  
“It’s nights like these when I miss my parents most,” Armin quietly observed. Not a month ago the government implemented the ‘Take Back Wall Maria’ plan of absolute failure and he said goodbye to his family for the last time.   
  
“Hang in there, Armin,” Eren whispered, grasping Armin’s cold, pale hand in his own. “We only have until next spring, and then all of us will be old enough to enlist in the next round of trainees.”  
  
“You know,” Armin whispered back, swallowing a nervous lump in his throat. “If my parents and grandfather were still around, I-I don’t know that I’d enlist with you and Mikasa.”  
  
“Why not?” Eren asked, shocked Armin would not even considering joining.  
  
“I’m not very athletic like a soldier is supposed to be. I don’t know if I’ll endure.” Armin felt Eren give his hand a not-so gentle squeeze, prompting him to explain, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely going to enlist now. You and Mikasa are the only family I have and I don’t want to lose either of you.”  
  
“You won’t,” Eren promised.   
  
“What if they kick me out, though? Because I can’t keep up?”  
  
“You’ll keep up,” Eren vehemently reassured his best friend. “They need soldiers of all kinds, Armin. Not just brawny fighters; smart ones, too, and you’ll be the smartest soldier they ever did know.”   
  
“Thanks,” Armin whispered, feeling a little heartened by Eren’s impassioned words. “But what if it’s like school all over again, and the other kids pick on me? Oof!” Armin suddenly found himself pulled against Eren’s chest. “Eren?”  
  
“I won’t let that happen.” Eren quietly vowed. “Anyone gives you any trouble and I’ll take care of it.”  
  
Pleased to know he was loved and cared about, even without parents, Armin let the love in his heart warm the rest of him as he suddenly did not feel as cold as he had before. Then, a muffled giggle.  
  
“I think you meant…Mikasa will take care of it?”

Eren nearly crushed their interlocked hands even as he snorted against Armin’s soft, yellow hair.

**IV – 849 spring**

“I’m beat!” Eren groaned, flopping backwards onto his bunk, his 3DMG harness in hand. Without bothering to look up from his book, Armin raised a brow at his worn out friend.  
  
“How did your night test go?”  
  
“Not bad,” Eren replied, working his boots off with his feet. “I only almost dislocated my shoulder once when I slammed into a tree. Had I not brought my feet up and kicked off the trunk as quick as I did, Reiner would have crushed me and you’d be talking to an Eren sandwich right now.”  
  
Armin smirked, sticking his bookmark in the book before placing it in the cubby at the head of his bunk. “Is Reiner all right?”  
Sitting up to change into his pajamas, Eren poked his head out and looked towards the older boys’ bunk. Grinning at the sight before him, Eren pulled back and leaned close to Armin.  
“Reiner’s pointing to his non-existent injuries and Bertolt’s smooching them. He’s fine.”  
  
The nightly bell clanged throughout the dormitory camp, indicating lights out. The boys loitering around the porch and in the common areas of the bunkhouse quickly scrambled to get into bed before inspection made their rounds.  
  
“Life won’t be the same without seeing them every day,” Armin observed as he scooted under his bedclothes. Eren joined him just as the light was extinguished, encasing them in darkness.   
  
“I know it,” Eren sighed, cradling his head in his folded arms. “They’ll be joining Marco and Annie in the Military Police. Safe and sound behind Sina.”  
  
“And Jean.”  
  
“Ugh. Yeah, and Jean. I guess.”  
  
“It’s not like we won’t ever see them again,” Armin murmured. “They will have time off, we’ll have time off…We’re not saying goodbye forever.”  
  
“I’ll be too busy killing titans to have time off,” Eren retorted, his voice thick with disdain.  
  
“Eren, you’re living in a very unrealistic dream where you’re an unstoppable, titan killing machine.”   
  
“What do you think life is going to be like when we graduate, then?” Eren asked, rolling onto his side to face Armin in the darkness.  
  
“As Survey Corps members? There is so much we have yet to learn, and every minute detail could be a matter of life or death. I imagine there will be a lot of intense training before each expedition, and since no expedition will ever be precisely as the one before it, we’ll never stop training. There’s also a lot of paperwork involved, a lot of planning, strategy, filing reports on what has been discovered, not to mention petitioning for supplies and grant writing. There is a lot more to it than meets the eye, Eren.”  
  
“Hmph,” Eren grumped, not wanting to admit Armin is probably correct, as usual. He felt a warmth press against his palm before slim fingers slid in between his own digits.   
  
“Life is never going to be as simple as we expect it to be, even when it comes to killing titans. And if and when we do have a chance to visit our friends in the Garrison or the Military Police, I know I’m going to snatch up the opportunity without a second thought. They’re all we have now.”  
  
Whether Eren’s silence was due to Shadis coming in to count heads or not remained to be known, but judging from the squeeze to his hand and the way the other boy tilted his head ever so slightly towards him, Armin knew his words took hold in Eren’s heart.  
  


**V – 850 summer**

Rising to his elbows to see his visitor in the dank and dreary dungeon, Eren was relieved to see Armin standing just at the mouth of his cell. This was the first time they had a chance to talk alone since the night of their graduation a week ago. Before the trial. Before the Trost debacle. Before the Rogue Titan.  
  
“I thought they trusted you?” Armin asked, giving a disdainful glance at their surroundings before approaching Eren’s bed, perching himself at the foot.  
  
“I don’t think they’ll ever trust me,” Eren confessed. “Not until I learn to control these…this titan shifting ability.”  
  
“Eren, about that…” Armin looked down at his hands, unsure where to begin. He had imagined this moment over the last few days, trying to come up with a way to broach the subject. Straightforward and direct, or delicate and sensitive? The latter never suited Eren, but this was an entirely unanticipated turn of events.  
  
“Everything’s fuzzy,” Eren answered before Armin could finish his inquiry. Rubbing his head idly, Eren squinted his yellow-green eyes as he tried to recall more pieces of the puzzle to his current conundrum. “My dad did this to me, but how…when and where did he go…I don’t know these answers.” Eren shook his head in aggravation.  
  
“Before your mom died?”  
  
“No,” Eren shook his head. “Afterward. That much I know.”  
Tilting his head as he furrowed his brow in concentration, Armin tried to rationalize and theorize. “There was never a time when you weren’t with Mikasa or I during our years at the refugee landfill. None that I can remember anyway.”  
  
“It’s not worth stressing over,” Eren said curtly, waving an impatient hand for his best friend to drop the subject. “All that matters now is what to do next.”  
  
“Which is?”  
  
“Whatever Commander Erwin, Captain Levi and Squad Leader Hange want of me.”

Hugging his knees to his chest, Armin stared wide-eyed at the brunet boy and shook his head. “Eren…I thought I’d lost you.”  
  
“Hey,” Eren chided, his features softening as he reached forward and clapped a hand over Armin’s. “I’m here. Safe and sound.”  
  
“I lost my shit after you die- I mean, when you were swallowed. Even when you came back, you were taken away from us so quickly that I really began to believe I’d never see you again.” Guiltily, Armin gazed down at the thin blankets atop Eren’s bed. “I didn’t feel right complaining or whining in front of anyone but Mikasa. Especially Jean…You know, he found Marco.”  
  
Lowering his lids, Eren desperately tried to recall the freckled soldier’s face, burning it into his memory. A fellow comrade in arms ought never be forgotten.  
  
“I know this sounds awful,” Eren warned, griping onto Armin’s hand tightly. “But I’m pleased Jean found him. He would never have believed Marco died otherwise; he would’ve been haunted.”  
  
“Yes…that makes sense.”  
  
“And now he’s here to make a difference.”  
  
“And Reiner. And Bertolt. And Connie.”  
  
“Which is why gaining control over my ‘Titan power’ is essential, and this expedition to the basement of my house. I have all of you to think of, like Jean said earlier today. I need to acquire this knowledge, this power, so that all of the sacrifices at Trost and all of the sacrifices yet to be made will have meaning.”  
  
You mean  _we_  need to acquire it,” Armin reminded him with a firm flex of his hand. “The Survey Corps is a team; we’re in this together, Eren.”  
  
“True, but, seeing as I’m the only titan shifter, getting a handle on my ability is my duty.”  
  
Armin’s eyes briefly flickered to the side as the young soldier decided against voicing his conflicting opinion on Eren’s notion as the lone titan shifter. It was merely a theory, a fresh one at that, inspired by Commander Erwin’s introductory speech. He had nothing but the bare bones of a hypothesis, and even that was fleeting.

All that currently mattered, however, was directly before his very eyes.  
  


**VI – 851 winter**

Raising his head from his work to peer out the window, Eren spied a familiar blonde figure perched in the lookout tower on the back lot of the property Levi’s Squad now inhabited. The days were short, breath visible with every exhale, with a plethora of snow falling each week, blanketing their surroundings. Some found the stillness to be peaceful, a juxtapose to the horror of their reality. Others found it unnerving, a trap meant to lure them in and lull them with a false sense of serenity before the grotesque foe of their nightmares leapt out from the trees, intent on devouring them.

After securing Captain Levi’s permission to bring Armin his dinner, Eren armed himself with weapons and heavy outerwear alike before trekking out to the tower where Armin stood guard.  
As he opened his mouth to announce his presence Eren noted the pensive set of Armin’s face, as if his thoughts were reluctant yet nostalgic. Though he felt like a trespasser on his best friend’s reflection, Eren held up the tray in his hands and called up to him. “Brought your grub, Armin!”  
  
“Thank you,” Armin replied, taking the tray and setting in on an upturned apple box. Picking at the hottest portions of his food as Eren climbed into the lookout with him, Armin continued to remain lost in his thoughts.  
  
Eren tossed Armin’s bread roll from hand to hand, one brow quirked quizzically. “Bread for your thoughts?”  
  
“Ah, nothing important.”  
  
“Now that’s a lie if I ever did hear one,” Eren insisted, setting down the bread. “Armin Arlert, not thinking about anything important? Pffft.”   
  
Relenting to Eren’s good natured jibes, Armin returned to his portentous expression before confessing, “I was thinking on Reiner and the others.”  
  
“Thinking about how you want to cut them down?” Eren sneered darkly.  
  
“I want to understand them and why they did what they did. Who made them do it?”  
  
“Who cares, they did it. They’re the bad guys. End of story.”  
  
“It can’t be that black and white, Eren. They’re our age, which would have made then ten and eleven when they destroyed Maria. Who charges children with such a abominable task? What would drive children to kill so mercilessly and keep their terrible secret for five years while they habituated with their prey? Lies and threats.”  
  
“Against what or whom?”  
  
“What or whom did you care about most when you were ten? Before the Wall fell?”  
  
“My parents, you, Mikasa. My home. My dreams.”  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
Eren didn’t want to look upon those traitorous bastards with empathetic eyes, and Armin could read the brunet’s discomfort across his face.   
  
“I know you don’t want to hear it, Eren, but there is a bigger enemy at play here, skulking in the shadows. Annie, Reiner and Bertolt are merely the pawns.”   
  
“Wolves in sheep clothing,” Eren grumbled. “Are you saying they’re innocent?”  
  
“Don’t be ludicrous,” Armin snapped. “They had their chance to cooperate with us. Who knows…maybe, if they had told Captain Levi or Commander Erwin…” Armin sighed. “They could have been helped…”  
  
“It’s too late for that,” Eren muttered regretfully, crossing his arms over his chest from the cold.  
  
“Yes, it is. Too late for a lot of things.”  
  
Setting his food aside, Armin pushed off from the railing to gently prod Eren with his elbow, his other hand worming and wiggling in the tight cross of arms until the taller boy relented, loosening up just enough to welcome Armin’s hand in his. The blond strategist smiled playfully.  
  
“Not everything.”  
  
  
 **VII – 853 summer**

They’d been riding for hours. Alternating between the horses and Eren’s titan form, they pushed onward, fueled by deeply-rooted determination. Some called them obsessed, and even more called them insane. The quest for water, or rather,  _saltwater_ , to emphasize the uselessness of such a thing. If such an improbable thing existed. They were on their own time now;  _A time for us_ , Armin had called it.  _Time to chase our dream and make it a reality._  
Head bowed in exhaustion, they rode on as if sleepwalking. Only their spirit and stubbornness kept them going, but go they did. They would ride until the ends of the earth.   
Armin’s horse snorted, causing the blonde rider to inhale sharply as he gave a start. Abruptly, he shot up and inhaled again.   
  
“Can you smell it?” Armin asked his companion, his blue eyes alight with new fervor.   
  
Eren followed suit, sniffing the air. Yes, there was definitely a shift in the air, but he could not place his finger on it. Quizzically, he turned to Armin, whose maniacal smile spread wider and wider.

“It’s salt!” Armin cried joyously, giving an encouraging kick to his horse, pushing her into a forceful gallop. “Salt! It’s coming from the west!”

“Armin!” Eren shouted as he rode after his friend, his own mare desperate to catch up with her friend.   
  
“Do you smell it?” Armin asked, looking over his shoulder. It mattered not whether it was insanity or hope in his friends eyes, only that his zeal for the dream remained.   
  
“Yes! I smell it.”

On and on they rode, unaware of the increasing incline of land below the pounding hooves, until Armin yanked back the reins and came to a skidding halt. Eren slowed his horse before reaching Armin, approaching cautiously as the other young man was transfixed on something beyond the edge of the cliff they had rode up on.   
  
“Armin…?” Eren ventured worriedly before following the blonde boy’s line of vision. An impossible expanse of blue lay before them, glittering in the afternoon light. Water and water and even more water, as far as the eye could see. Hopping off their horses in awestruck silence, the young soldiers led their steeds down the bluffs, winding carefully until their boots sank into the sand. Tethering their horses on a wimpy, crooked tree, Eren and Armin walked hand in hand towards the body of water waiting for them.  
  
“Look at the way the light catches on the surface,” Armin quietly observed, his voice hardly above a whisper. “It’s like the smile of an old friend greeting us home from a long, terrible journey.”  
  
“We were on a long, terrible journey,” Eren replied solemnly, looking at his best friend with a start. For the first time in his life, Eren realized he was  _really_  seeing Armin.   
  
Armin suddenly stopped, holding on to Eren’s shoulder for support as he pulled off his boots and long socks. Following suit, Eren’s footwear joined Armin’s and they were running hand in hand, their bare feet making footprints in the sand as they charged not like soldiers but two little boys from Shiganshina. Obsolete walls no longer caged them and ill-gotten tragic monsters no longer chased them; there were no more sacrifices to endure, no more fallen friends to bury. The world was bright, new and ready to be embraced.  
  
 **  
VIII – 854 autumn**

Running his fingers through Armin’s lengthy blonde hair, Eren initially noted its weight. How had its heft escaped him before? Or the way the sun caught on each strand, glistening the sheet of gold that now fell just below Armin’s shoulders. The bedstead and the wood burning stove were the only furnishings in little house, the roof completed an hour ago. They’d collapsed onto the bed, intending to nap when napping led to kissing and kissing led to hands on skin and in hair.

There had been many kisses over the last couple of years, many hands on flesh in more than friendly ways. Their tribulations, constant peril and strife was always an interruption, never permitting their affection to grow beyond a certain point.   
  
“Eren,” Armin whispered, warm breath tickling the other young man’s ear. Shivers rippled down Eren’s spine, causing him to hold Armin’s taut, nude body closer to his own. Lips and hands instinctively locked together the moment their bodies intertwined and became one. Unified in home, heart and body, all worries of the past lay in the graves of fallen enemies and comrades alike.   
  
“My Armin,” Eren answered back in the tender voice so few ever heard.   
  
“I love you, Eren,” Armin whimpered, their sweat slicked bodies gliding against one another, faster, gentler, harder, softer; a dance of emotion and desire.   
  
“I love you, Armin,” Eren groaned, green eyes holding blue, like the ocean down beyond the bluff. Two decades of affection, devotion, love and friendship reflected at one another as inaugural love was made.   
Breath hitching, pulses racing, bed creaking, and fingers clenching as the pair reached their zenith in unison.

Collapsing in a boneless, limb tangled heap, Armin automatically curled his back against Eren’s chest, bringing their twined hands to rest against his heart, still thumping profoundly in his chest.  
  
Nibbling on Armin’s ear, Eren declared, “Our house is officially a home.”

**  
IX – 914 winter**

“The fog is thick tonight,” Armin observed as he stoked the fire with another log and prodded it with the iron poker. Eren shifted underneath the covers of their bed, a small noise from his throat the only acknowledgment he gave his long time lover. Hoisting himself up from his crouching positioning in front of the hearth, Armin winced as his knees made that wretched cracking noise; cartilage was wearing thin and the cold made his joints stiff. Blowing out the lamplight, Armin made his way over to the bed and slipped under the covers. Wrapping arms around the dozing man’s midsection, Armin rested his head atop Eren’s.  
  
“Can you hear the waves crashing on the rocks down below?” Armin asked just above a whisper. “It’s my favorite sound in the world.” A familiar touch gently covered his hand; Armin tok the offered hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “Don’t leave me all alone, Eren. Please.”   
  
Several minutes of uneasy silence passed, Armin’s keen ears keeping on alert for any difference in Eren’s change of breath. The former titan shifter was feeling every bit of his seventy-nine years; his health deteriorated throughout the years and overuse of his power. The once all-mighty Rogue Titan, the Coordinate, Humanity’s Last Hope was now just a weathered elderly man tucked in his marriage bed along with his oldest and most beloved friend.  
  
The grey-eyed man rolled over in his sleep, snuggling close against the familiar shape of his lover. Without even being conscious of the gesture, Eren brought their intertwined hands between their beating hearts. He drifted back to sleep, only to be tenderly roused hours later. A shift in the air, a change so minute the average human being would not have detected it for ages. Eren did; he noticed all little nuances within their cozy abode. It was the sudden lack of rhythm against his hand that caused Eren to stir, though his eyes never once opened.  
  


“Armin,” Eren’s voice cracked, dry and thin, like autumn foliage. “My Armin.”  
  
That night, in the depths of winter, Eren Jaeger held tight to his best friend’s hand, uncaring and ignorant of its cooling temperature and stiffness. The one element making him cling to life had just slipped by him in a twist of ironic kismet. Now, at long last, the soldier of the Survey Corps, the little boy from Shiganshina, the land of legendary Walls, could slip into the ether of the universe. Unsurprisingly, Armin was waiting for him, his hand outstretched and waiting. Eren took hold; he would never have to let go again.

**\- End -**


End file.
